


Unexpected

by popfly



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Character Bashing, Gapfillerpalooza, Hate Crimes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-03
Updated: 2005-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-10 04:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popfly/pseuds/popfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gapfiller for the finale of season one (episode twenty two). Brian doesn't like to be predictable and Justin's prom night is anything but.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't seen the show, spoiler, Justin gets bashed after his prom.

_"You'll always be young and you'll always be beautiful."_

Brian leaned his forehead against the wall of the shower, letting the scalding hot water pound down on the back of his neck. He closed his eyes and felt himself sway, the words reverberating in his head the way his heartbeat was sounding in his ears.

_"You're Brian Kinney for fuck's sake."_

Well he was that. And he always would be. The young and beautiful part was the part he had trouble believing. Sure he was hot now, he couldn't deny that. He didn't even need to look in the mirror to know it. All he had to do was walk through Babylon, or the diner, or the fucking grocery store for that matter, and feel the eyes on him, the heated glances from men and women alike, the sexual energy that practically thrummed every time he entered a room. 

But every morning he looked at his reflection over the bathroom sink and saw the way the skin under his eyes looked looser, the lines around his mouth etched deeper, and soon the gray hair would start to show up too, invading like weeds in a garden, crowding out all the healthy brown hairs.

_"You'll always be young and you'll always be beautiful."_

Brian pushed away from the glass and reached for the shampoo. He wouldn't always be young. Michael was wrong about that. He'd get old, and he wouldn't be able to go to Babylon, do a bump and get a blowjob and then dance for hours before doing it all over again. He'd be tired before Babylon even opened, and the only drugs he'd be on would be heart pills or some shit.

He lathered and rinsed his hair, watching the suds swirling down the drain, water dripping from the end of his nose. 

Michael had made him promise three times not to do anything else stupid before he'd even think about leaving Brian alone in the loft. He'd pointed a finger in the direction of the bathroom and told him to take a fucking shower, his eyes blazing with an abnormal ferocity. Brian barked that he didn't need a fucking baby-sitter, goddammit, but he'd gone anyway, twisting the hot water on full blast, still trembling from what he was sure was oxygen-deprivation and what would end up being the most severe case of blue balls he'd ever have to suffer, fuck Mikey very much, while Michael had stood in the doorway with his arms crossed and his shoulders squared, watching.

Brian sneered and made a snide comment about Michael suddenly developing an attitude problem and Michael had tossed off something about Brian suddenly developing a stupidity problem, and he'd come forward and stuck his face right in Brian's, the quiver in his chin belying the strength of his words.

"You might think that you being gone wouldn't be such a big deal, but you'd be wrong. It'd be a big fucking deal. To me, to the guys, to my mom and Vic." He took a breath and his face softened slightly. "To Justin." And before Brian could open his mouth to reply, Michael had turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, the loft door slamming moments later.

Brian wiped the water from his eyes and shut off the tap.

Standing in his room with a towel wrapped around his waist, he thought about what Michael had said, what Lindsay had said. Maybe being thirty wasn't the end. Maybe it was just another obstacle that he could obliterate, another roadblock he could plow right through and leave in his wake. 

Michael had left the scarf laying on the bed, spread out on the charcoal sheets, practically glowing in the blue light.

Brian folded it in half and then in half again and tucked it into the top drawer of his dresser.

*****

"Gee, Brian, you missed a hell of a party last night."

Brian slid into the booth across from Ted, keeping a safe distance between himself and Emmett, who was eyeing him warily from behind a piece of bacon.

"Where were you anyway?" Ted asked, sipping his coffee.

"Oh, come on Teddy. Not even old age could stop Brian Kinney from his appointed rounds. I'm sure he was at Babylon as usual." Emmett's tone was dry and Ted chuckled mirthlessly.

Brian felt a flare of annoyance at the implication that he was predictable. Especially since it wasn't true.

"For your information, I wasn't at Babylon last night." Brian arched an eyebrow and snagged an errant mushroom slice from Emmett's omelette.

"Well you sure as shit weren't at the party either." Deb came up to the table, poking the capped end of her pen into Brian's shoulder. 

"Something - "

"Came up," everyone chorused, cutting Brian off. His nostrils flared and his cheeks felt hot. 

"Coffee, please," he ground out between clenched teeth, fixing his glare on Ted before swinging it to Emmett. Ted at least had the decency to avert his eyes, Emmett just grinned and batted his eyelashes.

Emmett and Ted continued their conversation and Brian prepared to tune them out as usual, opening the newspaper he'd picked up on the way to the diner, until Ted asked Emmett what he was doing that evening.

"I'm going over to Deb's to help Justin get ready for the prom."

Brian's ears perked up, and he felt their gazes on him. He shifted on the booth seat and flipped the page of his paper.

"And you Brian? What are you up to tonight?" 

Brian lifted his head, opened his mouth and then stopped. Emmett snorted and Ted smirked.

"Babylon?" Ted asked, tilting his head.

"Fuck you," Brian said, folding his paper and angling out of the booth. He got a five out of his wallet and smacked it on the table.

Ted and Emmett cackled behind him as he shoved through the diner's door.

*****

 _"You're Brian Kinney for fuck's sake."_

As Brian got ready to go out he wondered when he'd become predictable. He'd always prided himself on not doing what anyone else expected of him. Somewhere along the line _that_ had become expected.

He finished his hair and squinted at his reflection, studying the skin around his mouth and his eyes.

_"You'll always be young and you'll always be beautiful."_

Brian plucked a snug black button-down from its hanger and shoved his arms into the sleeves. He needed a fucking drink, and he needed to get his dick sucked. He at least needed a fucking cigarette.

He zipped up his jeans, thinking ahead to breakfast tomorrow morning. Emmett and Ted and their matching smug grins. Michael was already on his way to Portland, so he wouldn't be there at Brian's side, in Brian's corner. Justin had the morning off thanks to Debbie's "You'll need your rest after your big night", so Brian wouldn't even have anyone to flirt with to distract himself.

_"Don't you know that you still have your powers? All your powers."_

Brian's fingers stilled on the button of his jeans. If there was anything the guys - or hell, anyone - wouldn't expect it would be him showing up at Justin's prom. He flicked his eyes to the clock on the bedside table. Nine thirty. If he re-dressed quickly enough ... but he didn't even know where it was being held. He chewed his lip and then reached for the phone.

Punching out Deb's number, he tried to think of how he could ask what he wanted to ask without incurring a fucking interrogation.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Deb. Lemme talk to Justin." He waited for the big sigh on her end, for the snap of her gum and the jingle of her bracelets when she propped her hand on her hip.

"Now you know damn well he's not here," she replied after she'd sighed and snapped and propped. 

"What do you mean?" he asked, all innocence with a touch of impatience. He did a mental back-pat at his own ingenuity.

"He's at his prom, Brian, at the Wyndham fucking Garden."

Wyndham Garden. A fifteen minute drive from the loft if the lights were all green all the way. "Oh. Right. Thanks, Deb." He hung up and dropped the phone on the bed.

Brian slid open the closet door and shoved aside shirts, pants, his fingers finding the three zipper-front garment bags at the back of his closet that held his tuxedos. He opened them up to find the right one - all black, Armani - and lifted it out. 

Ten minutes later he was fully dressed and staring at himself in the mirror again.

_You're Brian Kinney for fuck's sake!_

He nodded to his reflection and turned away, leaving the bathroom and pulling the top drawer of the dresser open. The scarf was bright against it's bed of dark cotton briefs, and he took the end in his hand and shook it out, draping it around his neck. His thirtieth birthday present to himself. He strode across the floor, grabbing his wallet and his keys before sliding the loft door shut and locking it behind him.

*****

 _Even if it was ridiculously romantic._

Brian had known that heads would turn when he walked into the ballroom. He'd anticipated Justin's jaw dropping and the stars in his eyes. He hadn't thought about the song or the actual dancing, but that part went smoothly. Justin even did a little showing off in the circle that had been cleared for them. 

He hadn't counted on matching Justin's huge grin, or the heady rush of exhilaration he felt when he twirled Justin under the spotlight. He didn't think he'd be so absorbed in Justin's eyes, fucking _twinkling_ at him the whole time, that he wouldn't notice the hundreds of other eyes on him, on them.

He had showed up to prove to himself, to everyone, that Brian Kinney could still surprise people, stun people, shock people. He had enjoyed himself for many other reasons, not the least of which being Justin's smile and the way he practically _shone_ , even in the harsh lights of the parking garage, and that was almost the most unexpected part of the whole night.

Almost.

Brian hadn't counted on Chris Hobbes having a homicidal streak and a baseball bat in his trunk.

*****

 _I'm saving you!_

Brian sat in the back of the ambulance, the sirens and the mile-a-minute medical jargon of the EMTs sounding distant, his heartbeat pounding in his head.

His knuckles felt raw when he pressed his mouth against them, and he tasted blood. Whether it was his or Justin's he wasn't sure. He had scraped the back of his hands on the concrete floor of the parking garage when he'd slid his arms under Justin, and then gotten covered in Justin's blood as he made the call to 911 and waited for the ambulance.

It was only after the doors to the operating room closed that Brian felt himself crumbling. Everything from the crack of the bat to that point had been hazy, surreal. But when Justin's head - half-blond, half-red, and wrapped in gauze - disappeared from sight Brian's shoulders slumped and something hot and sour rose in his throat.

He couldn't even call Michael himself, a nurse had to do it, finding the number in the phone Brian held out in one shaking hand.

Michael came, and Michael talked to the doctors and the nurses and told Brian in a low voice that Justin was in recovery and it was time to go home and get some rest. Michael got him to the loft, both arms around his waist to keep him upright. Michael didn't let him go until they got to the bathroom, and Brian fell heavily onto the closed toilet lid, his arms hanging loose at his sides.

"You should get out of this tux," Michael said, coming forward to push the jacket off of Brian's shoulders.

"Mikey," Brian said, his voice coming out eerily soft and a little hoarse. He licked his lips and squeezed his eyes shut. "You're missing your flight, aren't you?"

Michael half-laughed, half-sobbed. "It doesn't matter."

Brian nodded and let himself be stripped. He propped himself up on the shower door while Michael twisted the taps.

"Get in."

Brian nodded and stepped inside. He leaned his forehead against the wall of the shower, letting the scalding hot water pound down on the back of his neck. He closed his eyes and felt himself sway, words reverberating in his head the way his heartbeat was sounding in his ears.

_"It was the best night of my life."_


End file.
